


Early Mornings (AlMei)

by ionica01



Series: Almei week 2017 [6]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: AlMei Week, Cute, Early Mornings, F/M, Fluff, almei
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 20:49:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11791203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionica01/pseuds/ionica01
Summary: Five ways Mei and Alphonse spend their mornings, together or apart.Written for AlMei week 2017, day 6.





	Early Mornings (AlMei)

Alphonse had sworn to himself never to play at God again, but when he was all alone in a fast-asleep world, all he could do was inhale deeply and feel like he could seize the day. 

Sometimes, Al woke up when the skies split in two, the dark of the night fighting with the blinding white of the day, causing crimson red to color the sky in between, as a testimony of their neverending war. Other times, he woke up when the fight was put on hold and the two were dancing in a waltz of peace, the red mingling with shades of shy rose and soft beige, with confident purple and light blue, with calming yellow and jolly orange. 

Al loved watching the colors of the sky slowly melt into victorious blue as the other colors dropped slowly onto the still-sleeping world, coloring the otherwise dull life on earth. If there was one thing Al believed in, it was that there were as many colors as human emotions and that each person was a mixture of those different and beautiful colors, radiating all shades in different degrees.

If there was such a thing as the perfect place to see the city drown in the dim light of daybreak, that was bound to be Resembool. The town’s people started their day quietly, slowly, waking up from their dreams to make them reality. Alphonse relished following these slow starts, feeling as if he was protectively watching over the town’s folk. He could stand in front of the window minutes on end, watching unknown people stroll rushedly down the dusky roads, heading only they knew where. Al found pleasure in trying to imagine their lives and what they did up so early: maybe they provided for their families, or maybe they made sacrifices for their work.

But none of these were new for Alphonse. He had been able to do such things during his years in a suit of armour as well, even staying up all night and contemplating human life or simply watching strangers and establishing a new, uncommon connection with each of them through sheer eye contact. Not that they knew they were watching an empty armour, but that didn’t diminish his will to protect them and every other breathing soul.

The incredible expeiences were related to his newfound ability to sip a cup of hot mint tea while starting his day and to feel the waves of steam tickle his face. The thrilling experience was to be able to smell the flowers of the garden and the fresh eastern breeze. To feel the texture of the wooden window sill under his fingers. And, since he was home, to recognize the tinge of cinnamon in Winry’s apple pie.

But what Al loved above all else was to be awake when he heard his brother and what he supposed to be his future sister-in-law wake up. They had a weirdly accurate timing and always woke up roughly at the same time. As soon as they were up and about, the house echoed with bickering sounds:

“How long are you going to spend in the shower gearhead?” 

“Ed, what did you do to my towel yet  _ again _ ?” 

The high-pitched sounds were music to Al’s ears, who slowly got up and approached the kitchen quietly, trying not to make his presence felt much.

“Why did you put milk in my coffee?”  Edward yelled. Al could swear he heard the smile in Winry’s voice as she answered:

“You’ll be small and stunt forever if you don’t drink it! Besides, the coffee you make is  _ way _ too bitter!” she argued, but her voice broke into a chuckle at the end. Edward also lost from his ire when he answered in an amused tone:

“I’m already taller than you. And my coffee rocks!”

Alphonse smiled fondly and stopped for a moment before the kitchen door, his eyes catching the rays of the morning sun reflecting against the ink in a blueish light, forming an irregular pattern on the letter underneath. The words “Dear Mei” were written calligraphically on the otherwise empty page, and for a moment, Al stalled in front of the door, his mind weighing the possible subjects he could approach in his next letter.

“Why do you hate milk so much, anyway?” Winry asked for the umpteenth time and Al heard her pulling her chair to sit at the table.

“Morning!” he announced himself, opening the kitchen door and letting it swing behind him.

He would tell Mei about the miracle of being alive and the beauty of the Resembool scenery at the break of day after the had a slice of Winry’s pie.

* * *

Mei enjoyed getting out of her comfortable bed and fluffy pillows early only to see the birds as they gave their first performance of the day. Watching them come out of their nests, feed their babies and make people happy at the same time was something she looked forward to each morning. She had done that ever since she was a kid, because it gave her something to look forward to in the political mess that Xing was. The birds, in all their glory, were the highlight of her day and proof that liberty did exist.

She always wondered what they sang for: to praise the nature for the joy of life? To communicate? Or maybe it was simply to please the ears. If it was the latter, she had yet a lot to learn from them.

Seeing them soar through the skies above the Imperial Court was also a sight to behold. Each bird had its own unique trajectory, yet they all came together to form a whole. She guessed they were the same as the people beneath them, starting their days by carrying boxes around, the guards doing their training and the cooks starting their work in the kitchen, each of them part of a bigger whole.

Mei found it reassuring that she was never the first one up, too. She felt like another small component of the machine the world was, a gear that helped the others tick but couldn’t work without the further chunks.

Another aspect of the mornings she liked was going onto her balcony and humming a song, which sometimes attracted a lonely bird to come closer to her, despite the obvious fear. It helped her connect with the nature, as she felt her  _ qi _ flow into every living fibre of the planet.

She also enjoyed starting her day with Xiao-Mei next to her, as they let themselves be tuned to the world around, closing their eyes and simply basking in the mild rays of the morning sun, which toyed with her black, unbraided locks and bare feet.

Mei also loved feeling the eastern breeze dance through her dark hair and part the bangs from her forehead, opening her eyes to the Xingese landscape, the most beautiful she had seen in her whole life. Be Xing as messy as it may from a political point of view, it sure offered breathtaking views:

Behind the stunning Xingese Imperial Court laid the capital town, with its Bazarrs and small cottages. The painted rooftops and golden shrines, a melange of white, red and yellow shone pleasantly in the morning sun. It wasn’t so bright it blinded one, but it was dazzling enough to assure one a beautiful day was waiting for them. The sun also sat in line for an audience at the Court behind the town, as if guarding the people there, making sure they were out of danger’s way.

Mei squinted her eyes when said sun rose high enough on the sky to send flashes of light in her direction. Despite the light invasion, Mei didn’t feel blinded, but carased by the gleam. A roaming ray of sun landed on Mei’s writing table, drawing her attention back to what she was working on late through the night.

Tens of written messages were crumpled on the floor, obviously failed attempts to find the right words to express her thoughts. The only words written on this new attempt were “Dear Alphonse-sama,” taunting Mei to finish the letter.

She strolled to her desk confidently and picked up the pen, not bothering to brush her bang first. She’d also talk about the beauty of early mornings in Xing.

* * *

Alphonse had to admit it: Xing was indeed breathtaking, all the more so when admired in the early hours of the day. The place emanated a certain charm, drawing one in with its light colors and warm breeze. If the Resembool sky displayed a fight, the Xingese one was already at peace, as if the colors didn’t need to drop from the sy to the people, but the humans themselves were one with the sky and sent their colors to paint it.

Another thing Al couldn’t help but notice was the proximity to the sun here, as if he was even closer to divinity. He wondered how come all Xingese could wake up to such a sky and not think themselves to be God. With the heavenly breeze ruffling his hair and cooling him down, bringing the smell of the mint Mei loved planting herself to tickle his nostrils. Given the circumstances, Alphonse could only suppose his hypothesis was close to reality.

Here, he also got to enjoy the quiet mornings and take in the miracle of being alive like nowhere else. If he thought watching people in Resembool was satisfying, it was because he hadn’t been on one of the balconies of the Xingese Imperial Castle before. From here, he could see every person mingingling in the blend of colors, and he could swear he saw fates intertwine in the web of active people.

What he missed here in Xing were only his childhood friends, who were back in Amestris, probably planning their wedding. But that loss was soon compensated by the arrival of Mei’s figure, still dressed in her long nightgown, her face fresh and her unbraid hair adorning her face as she also got out on her balcony to start her day.

It usually took her a while to notice Al there, but when she did, she bat her long eyelashes repeatedly and gazing him a smile more dazzling than the sun, making Al’s cheeks borrow the color of the pink sky home. The dark, black, almond shaped eyes were Al’s favourite landscape out of all this new country had to offer: they displayed multiple stories at once, and yet were mysterious at the same time, dazing Alphonse to the point where he’d lose himself in them. He only noticed that when she stopped talking and smiled knowingly.

It was when he noticed how her untied hair framed her pale face, bringing her features into evidence; the line of her round face; her arched eyebrows and, most of all, her thin lips, that Al realised there was no way he could be God, for he was not able to create such a beautiful being.

* * *

Mei inhaled the cool breeze from Resembool and let her lungs be filled with the fresh scent of it. She was resting her elbows on the window sill, the one on which Alphonse must have spent countless mornings leaning on that very same place. The thought caused a small blush to creep on Mei’s cheeks, and she bat her eyelashes quickly to brush off the thought.   


The birds were singing as sweetly as home, urging Mei to try calling out to them again with her humming voice.

The woman raised her head to admire the landscape from the window: she truly understood why Alphonse loved his hometown so much. It had a much more relaxed atmosphere than Xing, like the people enjoyed their life and had less worries, at least less than those in the Imperial Court. She felt like she was among the peasant that enjoyed their life, like she was finally not a princess but  _ Mei _ . Just Mei, the person, the one people liked for her personality and her way of being, not the Princess people had to look up to.

What she liked the most was that Alphonse’s whole family saw her like that. If it was Edward, he always picked up on her for being short of stature and he always made fun of the small panda she was attached to. Mei always found snarky comebacks to answer him, which started a little war. Yet it wasn’t mean, and they ended up laughing together: she never said it out loud, but she enjoyed it greatly.

Winry treated her like a sister and loved her for who she was. She also had a talent to make her feel comfortable and Mei always found herself opening up to her without realising. Actually, Winry told her Mei was like the sister she never had, and Mei secretly thought the same thing.

Even Winry’s grandmother became her own, making Mei comfortable with calling her ‘granny’. She always shielded Mei from Ed’s menacing remarks (or so she claimed before engaging in the “war” as well).

And then there was Alphonse himself, who wa so natural around her that it astonished her. If she had thought he was comfortable around her in the castle, he was even more relaxed at home, all the while being polite and very careful with her needs. If she seemed tired, he massaged her back, pressing all the right pressure points. If he ever felt Edward overstepped his boundaries, he interjected in the discussion and stopped his brother’s rant; otherwise, he simply listened and laughed. Sometimes, he gave Mei tips about what drove Ed crazy, but Mei always refused: she wanted to find his soft spot herself.

And if he felt her voice was more ragged than usual, he placed a mug of hot tea in front of her and smiled softly, like he had done this morning.

Al stepped next to her, placing his own cup next to hers carefully and taking the free place in the frame of the window. None of them spoke, the only gesture they sometimes made being sipping the tea, which slowly turned colder.

When the steam stopped flowing out through the window, the liquid low in their cups and the sky already blue for the most part, Mei finally broke the silence with a mutter:

“I really like it here.” She stated, watching the old tree in their garden wistfully. Al nodded, hiding a smile Mei felt in his voice behind the cup:

“I’m glad!”

“Edward, where’s my brush?” Winry yelled from the bathroom. Seconds later, Mei and Al saw a guilty, unbraided blond young man running away with a brush in his hand out in the garden.

 

* * *

The sun shone through the creamy curtains, borrowing their warm color. The beam of light reached for the covers of the bed, dancing on the margin in an uncanny way, guided by the breeze shifting the curtains. The birds were dedicating the lullaby to the nature, their mates and, perhaps, the sleepy couple inside.

Mei rolled on her side, knowing she should probably get up and start her day around now. She needed to grab a bite and change into her work clothes before leaving the house.

Al also knew he should get up to shave and get dressed and then walk through the fast asleep city for about twenty minutes to reach his office.

And yet, neither of them moved. Instead, they stared at the ceiling, view blurred by sleepiness and stray strands of hair. They didn’t even talk: words only disturbed the quiet wee hours of the morning. Instead, Mei snuggled closer to Alphonse in search for warmth in the cold eastern breeze.

“Alphonse.” she eventually broke through the silence with her soft, groggy voice. He turned to face her, letting one of his hands roam through her silky dark hair, shorter now than it was before they got married.

She simply stared at him for a moment before stretching and yawning. She wasn’t entirely sure what she had to tell him: she simply liked how his name rolled off her tongue. Alphonse felt the way she said his name was one of the many things only she was capable of, sending shivers down his spine and sending his heart beating much faster than healthy.

He pulled her closer and planted a chaste kiss on the crown of her hair before she tangled her hands around his neck, cupping his face as she pressed her lips against his. He didn’t hold back and let himself enjoy the taste of her soft lips against his, the feeling as thrilling as fighting against the homunculi, yet so,  _ so _ much more pleasant. It was slow yet passionate, innocent yet sexy. It was Xingese yet Amestrian. It was  _ theirs _ .

“We should get up.” she muttered when they broke apart, but didn’t push him away when he hugged her and inhaled the perfume of her shampoo.

“Just a bit longer.” he asked, and she muttered in agreement, not denying him such a simple pleasure.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This is my favourite prompt for this week, so I hope I did it justice! If you enjoyed, kudos, comment, reread!


End file.
